Magick Rising (28 page)

was when I began my campaign to find other
strigoii
like me, to save as many

moroii
as I could.”

“Then what are
mo . . . moroii
?” The pieces still didn’t fit with what she

knew of vampires.

“
Moroii
are dead vampires, irrational creatures. Those who die from

being drained of blood and rise again. At first, they are little more than

savages, unaware of their change, only knowing that they must have blood

to survive. They do grow more aware, more intelligent the longer they exist,

but they are never the people they once were.” Rurik paused. “They’re the

total of your experience.”

That made sense, yet . . .” I still don’t understand. Can
strigoii
go out in

the day? When I first saw you, it was afternoon.”

“As you probably know, the sunlight burns, but if you will recall the day

we met, the clouds were low and heavy, blocking the sun, and I had an

umbrella for extra protection as well.”

She frowned. This messed with everything she believed. “Then what

happens during the day?”

“I work in my store. I stay inside.” He grinned. “We don’t sleep in

coffins. Aside from avoiding sunlight and needing blood to survive, we’re

much like you.”

“And when do you sleep? I’ve seen you during the day and night.”

“Haven’t you been awake at those times, too?” He shrugged. “I sleep as

necessary. I find I need far less than I once did.”

“And the mirror thing is untrue as well?” She’d seen his reflection in her

bathroom.

“Yes and no. If the mirror is made of silver, we have no reflection, but

many mirrors today are made of other substances, allowing us the ability to

comb our hair at last.” His voice held a hint of laughter.

“You’re teasing me.”

He caught her hand again. “I’m trying to make you see we’re not the

dangerous killers you think we are.”

“Then why did you come after me, follow me to the cemetery?”

“When I saw you at the funeral, you obviously weren’t with the

mourners. I wondered if you were a slayer. I’d heard some exist. At first, I

was curious, wary. Plus I needed to reach Paul before you did. I try to meet

newly created vampires—the
moroii
—and give them fresh animal blood. I’ve

had some success this way in making them more rational, less likely to kill so

wantonly.”

“Then Paul . . .” Had she actually doomed him to destruction by her

actions at the cemetery?

“He might not have changed no matter what I did, Hayley. But I had to

try.”

“Would you have staked him if he didn’t change?”

Rurik hesitated then nodded. “I’ve done so in the past. A renegade

moroii
is a danger to humans and to us.”

“Then I ruined everything.” For once, she could have left the vampire

hunting to someone else.

“No. If you hadn’t come here, I wouldn’t have met you, wouldn’t have

fallen for you.”

Yeah, right. “Like you haven’t been with a woman in three hundred

years.” He’d get a medal for that . . . or thrown into an asylum.

“I didn’t say that. There have been women, but none of them have

claimed my heart, my soul.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Do you . . . do you have a soul?”

“I believe so. I didn’t actually die. I became something else.”

“Do you expect me to become what you are?”

Rurik brushed his fingertips over her cheek. “That’s your choice. As a

strigoii
, we’d have all eternity together.”

“No.” She pulled away from him, her pulse racing. To become a

vampire. No. She didn’t want to even consider it.

“Then we make the most of what time we do have.” He continued as if

she hadn’t spoken. “I need you. Even now I burn for you, ache to touch

you.”

Her body responded without conscious thought, her breasts swelling,

desire twisting into a knot. After what they’d shared, how could she ever

make love to anyone else?

But he was a vampire.

She met his gaze, saw his concern, his caring.

It was Rurik. She trusted him. God, what a mess.

“I don’t know.” She paced away from him, shaking her head. This was

too much to absorb, to believe. “I can’t . . .”

“Come to dinner with me.”

After all this incredible talk, his simple request brought her to an abrupt

halt. “Dinner?” She glanced over her shoulder. “Can you eat?”

“I enjoy food very much, even if it can’t provide the sustenance I need

to survive. Come with me.” He approached her slowly. “Some friends have

invited me over for dinner. They jokingly told me to bring a guest.” His slow

smile destroyed her defenses. “The joke will be on them.”

Dinner. It sounded so . . . normal. “I . . . yes.” She didn’t give herself

time to consider more than that. She wanted to be with Rurik, to feel his

arms around her, to experience his mind-numbing kisses. Perhaps later

she’d finally be able to grasp everything he’d told her.

Perhaps later she’d run screaming into the night.

Her breath caught in her throat as she recalled Rurik’s lovemaking.

Or end up screaming with pleasure in bed.

He led her through the narrow, winding streets to a typical Manitou

home—both eclectic and eccentric with the Victorian architecture designed

to fit into a small space on the sloped terrain. A white picket fence

surrounded the yard and now-dormant flower beds lined the front of the

house. It had been painted a brilliant sky blue, which shone even in the dim

glow provided by the porch light, and white shutters adorned the tall

windows.

A quaint place with definite personality. Hayley liked it on sight and had

no problem summoning a smile when the front door opened in response to

Rurik’s knock.

A tall young woman—blond and slender enough to be a model—threw

her arms around Rurik when she spotted him. “You did come. Wonderful.”

She obviously knew Rurik well. Hayley frowned. Did the urge she had

to clear her throat result from jealousy? How could she possibly be jealous?

Ridiculous.

Yet when Rurik placed a quick kiss on the woman’s cheek and extracted

her arms from his neck, Hayley found her gut tightening. Maybe she

shouldn’t have agreed to this.

“Monica, may I present my friend, Hayley Donahue?”

Seeing Monica’s jaw drop made the visit suddenly worthwhile. Hayley

forced a smile. “I hope it’s all right for me to come. Rurik said—”

Monica enveloped Hayley in an equally enthusiastic hug. “It’s more

than all right. It’s awesome. Come in.” She dragged Hayley inside where a

matching eclectic interior dazzled Hayley’s vision.

Pillows. Everywhere. Even the tables were littered with small

pillows—some with sayings, some with tassels, some with beads. Large ones

in a vast array of colors and shapes cluttered the floor. Medium-sized ones

sat on the patchwork couch and rust-colored easy chairs. Even the

magnificent lamp standing tall behind the couch wore a pillow-stuffed

lampshade.

“Noah, come meet Rurik’s friend, Hayley.” Monica led Hayley to the

center of the living room to meet a tall young man. He was as fair as the

woman with an athletic build and ready smile.

“I’m very pleased to meet you.” He grinned at Rurik. “Pinch me so I

know I’m not dreaming.”

Rurik rested his hand on Hayley’s shoulder. “Hayley, this

overwhelming couple are Monica and Noah Wainright. They run the pillow

shop down on Main Street.”

“I never would have guessed.” The dry words escaped Hayley before

she thought, but Monica responded with vivacious laughter.

“It is a bit much, isn’t it? Still, it’s home. Please, find a seat.” She tossed

pillows behind a chair and waved Hayley into it. “I’ll have dinner ready in a

minute.”

“Can I help?”

“Not at all.” Monica disappeared into the kitchen while Rurik perched

on the arm of Hayley’s chair.

Noah sank onto the couch, still grinning. “I have to ask where you two

met.”

“In a cemetery,” Hayley answered. Now wouldn’t that be a story to tell

her children. Children? What was she thinking? Rurik couldn’t sire children.

Or could he?

Or did he prefer them lightly sautéed with a sliver of garlic? A shiver ran

down her spine, and she wrapped her arms around herself, drawing slightly

away from Rurik. How could she forget what he was?

A slight frown creased Noah’s brow. “Is she . . . ?”

“No.” Rurik responded before Hayley fully grasped the question.

Did Noah think she was a vampire? She leaned closer to Rurik. “Does

he know about you?”

“They both know.” Rurik cast Noah a crooked grin. “And they still like

me.”

“Actually we put up with him for the stories.”

“Stories?” Hayley glanced from Noah to Rurik.

“He tells wonderful stories of the old days. You wait. We’ll get one out

of him before the evening is over.”

Monica poked her head out of the kitchen. “Dinner’s ready.”

Dinner was incredible—a full Thanksgiving feast with roast turkey,

stuffing, mashed potatoes, candied yams, and of course, pumpkin pie.

Hayley ate until she thought she would burst, enjoying the lively

conversation around her.

“I know it’s not Thanksgiving for a month yet,” Monica said as she

passed another heaping bowl around the table. “But I’ve been hungry for

this.”

Noah speared a thick slice of meat. “You won’t hear me complaining.”

Rurik presented another side of his personality during the meal. His

humor appeared more. In fact, laughter dominated the conversation and

Noah did indeed persuade him to share an incredible tale of life long ago.

For over two hours, Hayley managed to forget Rurik was anything but a

normal man with normal friends leading a normal life. Until Monica brought

in a tray containing after-dinner drinks to where they lounged in the living

room.

The tall crystal glass contained a dark red substance—thicker than

tomato juice, darker than the wine they’d been drinking earlier. Hayley

sniffed at her glass then drew back in horror. Blood.

“Is something wrong?” Monica asked. “It’s fresh today. Veal, I

believe.”

Rurik took the glass from Hayley’s fingers. “Hayley doesn’t drink

blood, Monica. She’s human.”

“Oh. Oh, crap. I’m sorry. Let me get you some wine instead.” Monica

dashed into the kitchen, leaving Hayley to stare after her.

What was this? She glanced at Noah, who returned an uneasy smile

then focused on Rurik. “Are they . . . ?”

He squeezed her hand. “Yes, they’re
strigoii
, too.”

But they were so normal, so friendly. She
liked
them.

Monica returned with a different glass and handed it to Hayley. “There.

You’ll like this better.”

Hayley could only stare at her. This woman was a vampire?

Placing the glass on a table, Monica frowned. “What’s going on here,

Rurik?”

“Forgive me. I wanted Hayley to see we aren’t the monsters she

believes us to be.”

“Monsters?” Monica sniffed. “I’ll tell you who’s a monster. That Davy

Whatever kid down the block. The things he does to the smaller kids are

hideous, and
he’s
human.”

Her head reeling, Hayley managed to voice a question. “How long have

you been . . .
strigoii
?”

“Oh, not long at all.” Monica glanced back at her husband. “What

would you say, Noah? Fifty years?”

“Closer to sixty, I believe.”

“I . . . see.” Evidently time took on different meaning when someone

had it in abundance.

Though Monica and Noah continued to be warm and friendly, Hayley

smiled her gratitude at Rurik when he said their farewells a short while later

and led her outside. The wind had risen, driving the autumn chill into them.

Hayley pulled her coat closer as Rurik wrapped his arm around her.

“I’m sorry if I shocked you,” he murmured.

“I never would have guessed they were vampires.” The couple was so

vibrant, so alive.

“Most people don’t.” He drew closer as if to steal a kiss, but she ducked

lower inside her coat. While a part of her longed for his touch, another part

feared it just as much. “We lead fairly normal lives.”

“I’m beginning to see that.” How could she deny the evidence? Rurik

spoke the truth. There were two types of vampires, and thus far she’d

apparently hung out in the wrong circles. “Then all the people the Destroyer

has killed became
moroiis
? My sister?”

“Probably. From what you’ve told me, he’s more interested in satisfying

his taste for blood than transforming someone.”

Hayley shivered, as much from her memories as the chill in the air.

“He’s here. In town. Somewhere. He left that card for me.”

“I know.” Rurik’s voice was cold.

“Is he
strigoii
?”

Rurik hesitated. “He would have to be. A
moroii
couldn’t have eluded

you the way he has.”

“Then
strigoii
do kill.” She
was
right about vampires.